


i glow pink in the night in my room

by scoutishere



Series: Lesbians in Space [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, First Kiss, Gender Affirmation, Trans Female Character, Trans Magnus Burnsides, trans woman magnus is real... i feel it in my soul and i love her so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutishere/pseuds/scoutishere
Summary: And surely Magnus’ own qualities are not separate from womanhood, either; her broad shoulders and gruff, deep voice are softened by her kindness, gentle heart, ever-present goodness and care. Her big eyes are rich, deep and brown like coffee, surrounded by dark eyelashes and premature smile lines. And so she brings a hand to cup at the side of Magnus’ face, feeling the hot skin below her fingertips. Magnus is a bundle of nerves, like this. She gives her a smile. “I’m not an expert on this stuff, but that’s okay. If you don’t think you’re a man, you’re not a man,” she affirms, her thumb sweeping over a tear that had slipped from Magnus’ dark eyes. She trembles under Lucretia’s touch.“I… I think, I feel, I think I’m a woman. But Lucy… I’m not like you,” Magnus gets out, and it breaks her heart, and every fiber in Lucretia’s being is screaming: yes you are, yes you are. You are gentle. You are kind. You are curious, you are genuine, you are blunt. You are caring, you are honest, you are tender.Magnus talks about her gender with Lucretia.





	i glow pink in the night in my room

Magnus’ hands shake as she ghosts over Lucretia’s chin with her right hand. 

It’s late, Lucretia thinks. She doesn’t check her wristwatch, because she’s sure that would appear rude, but her bedroom window to the outside world betrays the time of night, Lucretia guesses around one or two, if the screeching cicadas and warm glow of this planet’s orange moon are to be believed. 

In front of her, perched clumsily on her bed, is Magnus Burnsides, her eyes tired in the pale light of Lucretia’s bedside lamp. They’re both in their pajamas; Lucretia in a loose-fitting, cotton nightgown that reaches her knees, and Magnus in sweatpants and a t-shirt, worn from time. If Lucretia is remembering correctly, she thinks the threadbare t-shirt might be Barry’s, one that he brought with them from home. But all of their clothing has switched around so much in the three decades that they have been together on the Starblaster. Lucretia herself has claimed several of both Magnus and Lup’s t-shirts and loose-fitting sweaters. 

Magnus herself seems to be unmoving in the heavy, sleepy warmth of Lucretia’s room, as they talked there quietly. They do this almost every night, hanging out on the Starblaster deck, loitering in the communal spaces of the ship, or hanging out in Magnus’ or Lucretia’s room, usually watching the sun recede and discussing the world, the universes, how they might get out of this cycle. But Lucretia’s favorite topics to discuss, despite her outwards care for academia, is the lighthearted stuff. That’s why she could listen to Magnus talk forever. About dogs, about Fantasy Twinkies, about their favorite smells and dances and feelings. But just a moment ago, Magnus had leaned forward, her thumb ghosting over Lucretia’s bottom lip, her palm warm on Lucretia’s skin. Lucretia freezes, her shoulders tensing, and her eyes connecting with the woman’s across from her. 

Clearing her throat lightly, Magnus’ hand drifts down, retracting away from Lucretia’s face, and Luce’s heart feels a bit unstable, yearning to feel that warmth again. She searches Magnus’ eyes for an answer. “Sorry,” Magnus murmurs, her crafts-roughened hands coming to clasp in front of her protectively, and Lucretia’s heart races a bit. 

“Why are you sorry?” Lucretia asks honestly. 

Magnus’ eyes come up to connect with hers again, before glancing over to the dark window before them. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she says gruffly, and Lucretia can see she is squeezing her own hands, her knuckles white in her lap. Carefully, slowly, she reaches an arm out, and gingerly lays her hand atop Magnus’ own, wrapping around them and squeezing them gently. Magnus’ eyes fall closed, and Lucretia doubts herself, but keeps her hand there, comforting her friend. 

“You could never make me uncomfortable,” Lucretia says, giving Magnus a little smile, even though her eyes remain closed. Lucretia’s heart feels a bit heavy, waiting for Magnus to respond, to say anything. 

Instead, Lucretia just watches the woman before her, Magnus’ eyes closed and grip on her own hands tight. She can feel the emotion radiating from her body, can sense the tenseness from the protector in front of her. 

When Magnus opens her eyes, Lucretia can see that they are dark with tears, bleary and wet and can tell she had tried not to cry but could not help it. “Oh, Magnus,” Lucretia sighs, her arms coming to wrap around her, and she can feel her shudder in her light grip. Lucretia keeps her hands steady as Magnus buries her head in her shoulder, the weight heavy on her skin. Lucretia can already feel the tears from Magnus’ eyes soak into the cotton of her nightdress, wetting the skin of her shoulder. She can’t find it in her to care. 

For a while, Lucretia sits there, back straight as Magnus curls into her, her arms holding her up and squeezing her tight. She waits patiently for Magnus to calm, murmuring soft words of comfort to her. It’s nonsense, not calculated speech, just meant to make her feel comfortable and safe. “It’s okay, shh,” she soothes, her hand coming to rub her back lightly. 

It is not uncommon to find Lucretia and Magnus like this. Lucretia is more typically the one to need comfort, but Magnus almost never lets herself be vulnerable like this. She’s the head of security for the Starblaster, entrusted with protecting each of the crew members to the best of her ability, and Lucretia supposes the role is a lot of pressure, just like her own. Because Magnus feels like she is constantly responsible for protecting the people around her, she rarely breaks down, rarely shows this soft, human part of her. Except to Lucretia. 

Lucretia feels lucky that she is the one Magnus has chosen to be vulnerable with. It really could have been anyone. And her connection with Magnus is one of the only things that keeps her grounded throughout this never-ending journey, the human connection and touch keeping her sane throughout the continuous years. 

Before she knows it, Magnus is drawing away, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, red and blotchy from hot tears. She’s sniffling, and Lucretia offers her some tissues from her bedside table. She accepts, smiling a little lopsidedly at Lucretia (making her feel a little unsteady inside), and blows her nose. Gently, Lucretia tests the waters: “Wanna talk about it?” 

Giving her a little embarrassed smile, Magnus nods a bit, looking out of the window. “I’ve been thinking about… some things, some personal things, uh… about gender,” she gets out, stammering a bit, her voice still a bit broken from tears. Lucretia’s stomach flips inside of her, feeling nervous and out-of-depth. 

“Yeah?” she nudges. 

“Yeah,” Magnus breathes out, looking at her now in the eyes. Magnus’s got such beautiful eyes, big and brown and curious. Right now they’re exhilarated, nervy. “I… I, uh, I talked to Lup about it. About… femininity,” she murmurs softly, and her hands come to her own arms, sliding over the soft hair there. She looks unsure and confident all at once. “This may, um, come as a surprise, but I think I may not be a man, Lucretia.” 

Lucretia thinks for a moment. Is it a surprise? She decides no, because she knows her Magnus so well, has been with her since day one of their journey, joking around in the kitchen of the Starblaster together and bugging Taako and Lup. Sure, there are qualities of the woman before her that are not exactly conducive to womanhood, but aren’t they, though? Lup has never been less of a woman for the hair that grows on several parts of her body, the thin tallness that makes her appear as a string-bean lacking curves, or the strength of her jaw, sharp enough to make Lucretia jealous of her supermodel-esque appearance. And surely Magnus’ own qualities are not separate from womanhood, either; her broad shoulders and gruff, deep voice are softened by her kindness, gentle heart, ever-present goodness and care. Her big eyes are rich, deep and brown like coffee, surrounded by dark eyelashes and premature smile lines. 

And so she brings a hand to cup at the side of Magnus’ face, feeling the hot skin below her fingertips. Magnus is a bundle of nerves, like this. She gives her a smile. “I’m not an expert on this stuff, but that’s okay. If you don’t think you’re a man, you’re not a man,” she affirms, her thumb sweeping over a tear that had slipped from Magnus’ dark eyes. She trembles under Lucretia’s touch. 

“I… I think, I feel, I think I’m a woman. But Lucy… I’m not like you,” Magnus gets out, and it breaks her heart, and every fiber in Lucretia’s being is screaming:_ yes you are, yes you are. You are gentle. You are kind. You are curious, you are genuine, you are blunt. You are caring, you are honest, you are tender._

But instead, she lets out a shaky breath, and connects her eyes with the woman before her, hoping to convey her love through a single look. “You are whatever you want to be,” she answers. “Do you still want to go by Magnus?” 

And she nods, her red bangs falling over her forehead in messy waves, covering the top half of scar that reaches from her forehead to her cheek. “For now,” she says cautiously. “I’m really still just trying to process these feelings,” she explains, her hands folding on her lap. “Gender is confusing. But I… I don’t want to have to feel like I’m hiding anymore. Especially with you.” 

The last part makes Lucretia’s stomach twist, but she tells herself to get a grip, this is her best friend, here. And she’s not trying to mess that up. So she exhales shakily, smiling at Magnus. “I don’t want you to have to feel like you’re hiding, either. Thank you so much for telling me, Magnus... thank you for trusting me,” she whispers earnestly, and she finds Magnus’ lips crooking upwards in the first real smile she has seen from her tonight.

It makes her smile, too, to see the woman in front of her happy, and she closes her eyes, content in the moment. But as she does, she feels the presence of the woman in front of her grow closer, Magnus just centimeters away from her face. She can feel Magnus’ warm, wet breath against her bottom lip, can feel her crooked nose brushing Lucretia’s own hooked one. And when she opens her eyes, her eyelashes brushing softly against Magnus’ skin, she looks deeply into the eyes that know her, that love her, that trust her. Her heart is pounding in her chest from the closest, tensing her limbs and making her feel prone, but even with her heart in her ears, she can hear the words that Magnus breathes out: “Lucretia, can I kiss you?” 

She’s nodding before she can even process it, and Magnus’ head dips just that little bit closer to connect them, lips brushing against each other softly. She’s warm, she’s always warm, the human space heater to Lucretia’s ever-present coldness, but being able to feel Magnus’ warm lips against her own is an experience she never thought she would acquire. It’s gentle, sweet, but urgent, too, built up from years and years of their closeness, their connection. With every kiss, Lucretia can feel Magnus’ pent-up emotions, years upon years of aching to be cared for. 

Lucretia’s hand darts out again, connecting with Magnus’ hand blindly, and she gingerly moves her thumb atop Magnus’ hand, comforting her through the kiss. She’s always loved Magnus’ hands, the way they are big, hardened by days and years spent crafting and protecting and working and fighting. She is hardened by experience, but soft in all things. Although she has been through much, and her scarred, rough hands convey that, the gentleness of her touch show how truly good she is, still kind despite people not being kind to her. She grips Magnus’ hand through the kiss like a lifeline, and Magnus squeezes back. She feels grounded. 

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, Lucretia sapping warmth from the woman next to her. Her hand is thrown around Magnus’ middle, clutching her bare skin (Magnus likes to sleep shirtless, and Lucretia isn’t about to complain), and Magnus radiates heat, despite Lucretia’s window being open, the night cold cooling her room. Above her, Magnus snores softly, her red hair splayed against Lucretia’s pillow. 

So, this is love, Lucretia thinks, and falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> anyway this was written out of the love in my heart i have for lesbian magcretia and the absolute void of content for Them 
> 
> thank you so much to the magcretia discord i feel so blessed to have your guys' support!!!
> 
> please leave a comment if you're soft for Them
> 
> find me on tumblr @lucretiagf <3


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